


Gorgeous

by Morwynn



Category: Enchanted Forest Chronicles - Patricia Wrede
Genre: Eventual Romance, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-29
Updated: 2018-07-29
Packaged: 2019-06-18 06:39:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15479817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morwynn/pseuds/Morwynn
Summary: When Taylor Swift's Gorgeous came out last fall, the retro-pop style reminded me of my middle school days, so I wrote a middle school-style romantic fluff songfic for my favorite YA fantasy ship! Morwen and Telemain's fixation on their work can't drown out their undeniable chemistry forever. But it just might take awhile.





	Gorgeous

You should take it as a compliment  
That I got drunk and made fun of the way you talk  
…  
Of course the King and Queen of the Enchanted Forest had an open bar at their wedding reception, even if it meant ordering the extra-large vats of firewhiskey for the dragon guests. The venue hummed with the laughter of revelers and the music of the Goldwing Shadowmusic Elves as Mendanbar, Cimorene, and Kazul retreated from the dance floor and headed back to find Morwen at the head table. She looked resplendently sullen in a chic black robe and piqued expression.

“Where’s your dance partner?” Cimorene asked as an elf immaculately dressed in black and gold refilled the glasses around the table. The signature cocktail of the evening, the Royal Jubilee, had been crafted in honor of the regal newlyweds. It started fizzy, ended smooth, and the edible flower garnishes provided the subtlest hint of anise.

Morwen rolled her eyes and swirled her drink, the flower garnish coming perilously close to toppling out a few times. She had only had one glass of the Jubilee—she just wasn’t sure how many times the finely-dressed elf had refilled it—but it had sanded the edges off her normally-patient exterior.

“Oh, take a guess,” she said dryly, flicking a hazel glance toward the man in question, who crouched over a toadstool a few feet away in the grass beyond the edge of the dance floor, dangling what appeared to be a silver pocket watch over the fungus. “Mid-way through the Caves of Chance Waltz, he starts staring right over my head toward that toadstool until he couldn’t stand it any longer and had to investigate.”

The rest of the wedding party suppressed some giggles as they looked from Telemain and back to his offended party as she continued, gesticulating with her glass in hand, nearly spilling the flower again, “He won’t rest until he’s double-checked everyone else’s magic wards and enchanted safeguards.” She mimed twisting magic rings for emphasis as she continued, visibly peeved, “I’m surprised he wasn’t in the kitchen lecturing the caterers, ‘perhaps you were unaware, but the heating element of the baking stove produces a synergistic effect in the flour and baking powder, transforming an inelegant and unappetizing mélange of both aqueous and dehydrated components into a visually appealing yet calorically significant final product!’”

She stroked her imaginary beard as her friends wrestled with laughing at her admittedly spot-on impression and not wanting to laugh too hard at a friend, especially one who had finished his investigations—it was indeed a plain toadstool and not a cursed cobbler— and wandered up to the table to stand right behind Morwen as she patted her make-believe vest pockets.

Resting his hands on her shoulders, he said simply, “I merely wanted to put my talents into the service of ensuring that tonight was as close to perfect as possible for my friends’ celebration.”

The bride, groom, and matron of honor finally allowed their chuckling to turn into full-on peals of laughter as Morwen clumsily painted over her surprised expression with more exaggerated annoyance.

Inwardly, however, she had to admit it was touching that he wasn’t obsessed with achieving a perfect outcome for the imposing figures of the King and Queen of the Enchanted Forest—he just wanted to give a nice gift to his closest friends.

… 

You should think about the consequence  
Of your magnetic field being a little too strong  
And I got a boyfriend, he's older than us  
He's in the club doing I don't know what  
You're so cool it makes me hate you so much

Whiskey on ice, sunset and vine  
You've ruined my life by not being mine  
…  
Morwen was a very independent woman. Her garden, home, cats, and work fulfilled her and she found them to be more than enough. People who could get past the whole witch thing enough to no longer be intimidated by her occasionally pursued her, and she was occasionally interested. Though she had enjoyed a few cider afternoons with a slightly older man, an arithmancy professor at a small university of magic just on the other side of the Enchanted Forest, she found herself increasingly comparing him to a certain magician.

She ran her fingers over the elaborate gilt frame of her new state-of-the-art magic mirror. She wasn’t sure how she was supposed to interpret this gift, or where to hang it. Its exceptional style and quality precluded its inclusion from the main room and made her wonder about the intentions of its giver. Much nicer than anything she would have treated herself to, the mirror stood out from the rest of her furnishings and inclined her to question if such a grand gesture contained a deeper significance. Hanging it near her desk in the study, she settled the former question but not the latter. Anyhow, she had tentative plans with the professor tonight, she remembered, dispersing any lingering thoughts about her old friend. That must be him on the mirror, she thought as she heard it

DING  
…

You're so gorgeous  
I can't say anything to your face  
'Cause look at your face  
And I'm so furious  
At you for making me feel this way  
But what can I say?  
You're gorgeous

You should take it as a compliment  
That I'm talking to everyone here but you  
And you should think about the consequence  
Of you touching my hand in the darkened room  
If you've got a girlfriend, I'm jealous of her  
But if you're single that's honestly worse  
'Cause you're so gorgeous it actually hurts  
(Honey, it hurts)

Ocean blue eyes looking in mine  
I feel like I might sink and drown and die  
…  
Though Telemain protested that he was a grown man and not in need of being tucked in, Morwen insisted on helping him into the bed that the firewitch Brandel had provided in his tower. She wanted to perform some enchantments that would hasten his recovery in his sleep as well as make sure that Trouble would stay put on the magician all night. Once she was satisfied with the setup of the healing spells, she set a one-minute timer so she would know when the spells were done settling into a single layer to drape over the covers. Then Trouble would be allowed to jump on the bed and she would finally leave them alone for the night.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, she looked Telemain directly in the eye. “It’s important that you get a full night’s rest,” she insisted firmly. “Don’t stay up picking apart everything that went wrong today and don’t get up too early. Promise me.”

She didn’t know if it were her tone of voice or her facial expression that revealed the extent of her concern over him. He had opened his mouth to challenge her—probably to insist that nothing on his end had gone wrong—but changed his mind. He closed his mouth and his expression softened as he looked back at her. “I promise,” he said, somewhat defiantly, but he gave her a small smile as he settled into the pillows.

“Good,” she replied, returning a small, worried smile, and it was the first time all day that she relaxed the space between her brows.

“Gross,” Trouble observed, just as the spell timer went off.

DING  
…

You're so gorgeous  
I can't say anything to your face  
'Cause look at your face  
And I'm so furious  
At you for making me feel this way  
But what can I say?  
You're gorgeous

You make me so happy it turns back to sad, yeah  
There's nothing I hate more than what I can't have  
You are so gorgeous it makes me so mad  
You make me so happy it turns back to sad, yeah  
There's nothing I hate more than what I can't have  
Guess I'll just stumble on home to my cats  
Alone, unless you wanna come along, oh!  
…  
At a little table in the back corner of the tavern, Morwen and Telemain finished their drinks, the cheery fire in the central fireplace clashing with their somber moods. It felt impossible to adjust to an Enchanted Forest with no Mendanbar, no Cimorene, and no Daystar. Bereft of their dearest friends, the magical pair had been seeing more of each other, to strategize as well as to give and seek support. Putting a name to the feelings of isolation and anxiety they were each experiencing, Morwen had sensibly suggested that they commit to meeting regularly to cope with their newfound challenges. They selected the tavern because they had both wanted a change of scenery, but as pleasant as it felt to get away for a little while, it somehow felt wrong to be away from the forest for too long.

The niggling feeling they each sensed to return to the forest was not the only thing that felt off. The entire infrastructure of forest magic had been thrown into flux, rendering an already-unpredictable forest into even further disarray, as Morwen’s appearance testified. She no longer needed her glasses on Thursdays, although she still occasionally attempted to straighten the phantom lenses. Her hair, normally swept up into an immaculate updo, had ginger tendrils sprouting from her bun and framing her face. Altogether, Telemain found the effect rather appealing but was far too sensible to say so, which, for him, showed a considerable amount of sense.

A few months of regular dinners, coffees, evenings in by the fire and evenings out with mugs of hard cider went by. Morwen had to admit that though it had been her suggestion to spend more time together to alleviate the complicated feelings over their recent trauma, it had introduced additional complicated feelings as well. The more they met and laughed and shared, the further into uncharted relationship territory they strayed, until Morwen started wondering if they should either pull back or continue full steam ahead. And she couldn’t deny that there had always been a bit of a spark just underneath the surface.

“I’d better be going home,” she said matter-of-factly, shaking herself out of her thoughts as she had done for several previous meetings, uncertain of the signals they were exchanging and not wanting to add an additional layer of complication to their lives. Unless of course the desire to add that additional layer of complication was mutual.

“It’s late and cold, let me transport you,” Telemain said, and Morwen appreciated the offer. They settled the tab and made their way outside, where it would be easier to perform the transport spell away from the overlapping magics of the other patrons. The crescent moon hung sharp in the sky as the chill winter air made frosty dragon plumes of their breath.

Even though Morwen was ready to leave the crowd and the tavern, and ready to be back in the Enchanted Forest and home, the night was dark, quiet, lonely, and she wasn’t ready to be alone.

“I suppose this is good-bye then,” Telemain said, proffering a hug that Morwen accepted. She suspected she wasn’t alone in not wanting to be alone.

Telemain prepped the transport spell and initiated a call to her magic mirror on a little handheld portable magic mirror device he was working on. He wanted to make sure she had gotten home safely, as well as test out the parameters of the device when calling from a location outside the Enchanted Forest. The man could be both thoughtful and practical when he tried very hard.

Morwen smiled to herself. A not-insignificant portion of her skillset included interpreting jumbled, archaic, or complicated patterns of magical information. She decided to proceed with an educated guess.

“You should join me,” Morwen said evenly, lifting her gaze to his eyes, where she found confirmation that her hypothesis had turned out to be correct.

Telemain in fact needed little convincing and completed the spell so quickly he didn’t even have time to cancel out the magic mirror call he had begun. They were already in the main room of her house unfastening each other’s cloaks when she heard his call patch through to her mirror.

DING  
…

You're so gorgeous  
I can't say anything to your face  
'Cause look at your face  
And I'm so furious  
At you for making me feel this way  
But what can I say?  
You're gorgeous 

You make me so happy it turns back to sad, yeah  
There's nothing I hate more than what I can't have  
You are so gorgeous it makes me so mad  
You're gorgeous  
…  
The brown room of the castle had always tended to be a little bit chilly, especially at night, so Morwen wrapped herself around her charge, careful not to disturb his injured shoulder.

“I was really scared today,” she admitted quietly into the dark. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Telemain replied, his deep voice rumbling his chest against Morwen’s ear.   
…

You make me so happy it turns back to sad, yeah  
There's nothing I hate more than what I can't have  
You are so gorgeous it makes me so mad  
You're gorgeous


End file.
